A Young Boy's Journey
by turtle-07
Summary: I am writing this for a project in english class... i am writing this in homeric style, it has no ties to the Odyssey, however you might notice somethings similar, heh... I dont except to be good at homer's style, but its fun to write. plz r/r


Odyssey Project

Teach me Mr. Berkowitz; teach me of the boy of a thousand destinies. Each on a road before him, yet each worse than the last, his future unclear and yet all too clear. Chosen over his brothers for a task that they all deserve. The cruelest of fates ahead of him in his journey to venture into the unknown and acquire the item that his dearest mother so desires, a single loaf of bread to go with dinner. Hard will his day be, and yet he shall return all the same, but how shall he return? A bitter and broken boy, luckless for the rest of his years, or battered yes, but strong and worthy of anything that should come his way?   

"So unlucky that boy is" exclaimed Dorothy of the bridge club. "Yes, even we know that he should not have been chosen over his brothers for a task they all deserve, such is his luck" proclaimed Bertha master of trumps "Perhaps" she mused "Perhaps we ought to help out this luckless boy, surely his mother wouldn't mind, my daughter she is, yet so hard on her kids, such a journey for one so young?" Shouted out Judy of many tricks "I say we help him, who here could contest his politeness and manner when such occasions did arise!" "Yes we shall help him" "Yes, we shall help him, but his mother is a sharp one and wont tolerate insolence, let that be known, secrecy is our best weapon at the moment." "Of course, but how?" Mused Dorothy master of the cards "Surely his mother will find out should we leave the basement in which we are confined to play bridge, such a action would not be tolerated on her part" "Of course!" Shouted one, we shall send a messenger, one small and unnoticeable, and has a reason to be down here… but who, I dare say there is no one like that in this house"

"Never fear my friends, all hope for him is not yet lost, we have a messenger one unnoticeable by she: Johnny" "Of course, he shall make the perfect messenger" And three times did Bertha master of trumps call, and three times there came no response, yet on the 4th time down came Johnny messenger of the bridge club. "Dare I ask why you called me Grammy? My trucks can not wait as you would know"

 "So young he is" Exclaimed Judy "he is not yet seven, how can he carry out our plans?" "Never fear my friend, he is a trustworthy and dependable to say the least, now go Johnny, tell you brother of his fate: He shall we asked to acquire a loaf of bread for tonight's dinner, the walk, a treacherous one, amidst a river of grayish asphalt and stores, he shall proceed north, north until he reaches a refuge, a old friend of mine shall take him in and curb his hunger to allow him onward. After that he shall face a horrible terror, beware the woman on her porch; she shall attempt to ensnare you with kind words and cookies, beware once in her lair no good will come, old war stories of her husbands success, horribly mangled, mind you no good will come from that, keep on going until he should reach the ocean of cars. Careful! Much danger there, no better than the old woman's odious lair, he shall face an impassible river of flashing colors. For this extra caution is required, in a pole there lays a button, a button that can hold these beasts for a short period of time, locate the button and cross as the river is parted. Be fast and don't look back, the beasts don't hold for long. Continue onward, never looking back at those horrible metal contraptions. Last, horrible last, there is a young girl, beautiful like nothing else, but move on past that temptress, never laying eye on her again. The path down that road is racked with sorrow and despair. Now go young Johnny, tell you brother of the fate that awaits him!" And with those words, tireless Johnny sped off, to warn his brother of his horrible fate.

Off Johnny messenger of the bridge club sped, off to the deepest reaches of the house. Off, past his mother curser of fates, past his old sister, past her horrible lair, the stench of bad perfume everywhere. Past his ever-watchful father unnoticed, past every danger that might be lurking before his destination. But before we could warn his brother of his mothers nefarious plot, trouble came, came in the form of a small red truck, swaying only a moment, trying to remember his original mission and failing to do so, Johnny made his way toward the truck, hours of bliss awaited him

As ageless time with its horrible sickle cut through another hour, only then did Johnny remember his true mission. Leaving only a parting glance to the truck he sped on, truck now forgotten. 


End file.
